“Not he, not he!” replied Lord Sherbrooke; “I saw him but two days ago.  But who have we here, coming up on foot?  One of the King’s servants, it would seem, and with him that cowardly rascal Arden.  They are snaking towards us, Wilton, doubtless not recognising us.  Suppose we take Master Arden, and horsewhip him out of the park.”

“No, no,” replied Wilton, “no such violent counsels for me, my dear Sherbrooke.  The man is punished more than I wished already.”

The two men directed their course at once towards Lord Sherbrooke and his companion; and as they approached, the King’s servant advanced before the other, and with a respectful bow addressed Wilton, saying, “I have the King’s commands, sir, to require your presence at Kensington immediately.  I was even now about to seek you in St. James’s Square, and then at Whitehall.  But I presume Mr. Arden has informed me rightly, that you are that Mr. Brown who is private secretary to Lord Byerdale.”

“The same, sir,” replied Wilton.  “Am I to present myself to his majesty in my riding dress?”

“His majesty’s commands were for your immediate attendance, sir,” replied the servant:  “the council must be over by this time, and then he expects you.”

“Then I will lose no time,” replied Wilton, “but ride to the palace at once.”

“What can be the meaning of this, Wilton?” said Lord Sherbrooke, as he put his horse into a quick pace, to keep up with that of his friend.

“On my word, I cannot tell,” replied Wilton.  “I trust for no evil, though I know not that any good can be in store.”

“Well, I will leave you at the palace gates,” replied Lord Sherbrooke, “and ride about in the neighbourhood till I see you come out.  I hope it will not be in custody.”

“I trust not, indeed,” replied Wilton.  “I know of no good reason why it should be so:  but in these days of suspicion, and I must say of guilt and treason also, no one can tell who may be the next person destined for abode in Newgate.”

In such speculations the two young gentlemen continued till they reached the palace, where Lord Sherbrooke turned and left his friend; and Wilton, if the truth must be confessed, with an anxious and beating heart, applied to the porter for admittance.

The moment that his name was given, he was led by a page to a small waiting room on the ground floor.  The carriages which had surrounded the entrance seemed to indicate that the council was not yet over; but in a few minutes after, the sound of many feet and of various people talking was heard in the neighbouring passage; and then came the roll of carriages followed by a dead silence.  To the mind of Wilton the silence continued for an exceedingly long time; but at length a voice was heard, apparently at some distance, pronouncing a name indistinctly; but Wilton imagined that it sounded like his own name.

The next instant, another voice took it up, and it was now distinctly, “Mr. Brown to the King.”  The door then opened, and a page appeared, saying, “Mr. Brown, the King commands your presence.”